Of Kings and Aces

33| The Queen

I went home Sunday night almost drunk to oblivion and woke up sore all over my body the next day. I groaned and tried to roll to my side but found that even moving my arms and coughing or holding my breath was painful.

What the hell happened?

Something rapidly beeping caught my attention, and as I tried to open my eyes, I found it to be an enormous struggle.

"Mom, he's awake!" I recognized Harris scrambling from the side of my bed and rushing towards my head. He called the nurses, telling them to call the doctor. When he saw me looking at him, his relief turned into a scowl. "What the hell were you thinking, Ace? Oh, hold on. Obviously, you weren't! Fucking idiot!"

I opened my mouth to retaliate, but my throat was so dry I ended up coughing and then hissing in pain.

"Bradley! Thank god you're finally awake!" She hugged, her eyes brimming with tears. The moment she did, searing pain across my chest and left shoulder erupted. And it was only then I noticed that I had a brace around my neck, a sling on my left arm, and things attached to my right hand.

"I'm not even sorry! You deserve that!" she scowled too, wiping her tears. 

Thank god, my family really loved me. I really appreciated their warm concern and tender love during that time of confusion and pain. Note the sarcasm.

"I love you, too," I said hoarsely.

"Why were you driving when you were drunk? You knew it was my one condition, Bradley, my only condition when you should not drive! Now that you turn thirty, you think you're invincible and driving sober is beneath you?" she cried.

I did not reply. I had no acceptable answer to that because I myself wondered what compelled me to drive drunk. After almost getting into accidents twice because I was smashed, I made it a point to either sober up or grab a taxi.

"Well?" my mother insisted.

"If I could have some water, please," I appealed. 

Sure they gave me water. Drops of room temperature water from frigging cotton balls. It was enough to wet my lips but not my parched throat. What the actual fuck.

I parted my lips again, asking for more.

"Doctor said you can only have a few drops at a time." Harris was clearly enjoying my misery.

"Fuck the doctor. Water!" I croaked.

"Tell Cara that. See if she'll be pleased," he snickered. 

"How's my car?" I frowned.

"How's your car? You're not even going to ask what happened and if you will be able to walk again?"

"Harris!" mother reprimanded him.

"What?" I immediately panicked. I hadn't felt my legs the moment I woke up, and as I stared at them hidden under the blanket, they weren't moving. The monitors were beeping aggressively again as pain erupted in my chest. I forced myself to sit up despite the blinding pain. 

Son of a bitch, I cannot be paralyzed!

"Ace, lay back down!" Cara ordered as she came through the door.

"My legs! What happened?" I quickly pulled the sheet off my legs and saw my upper thighs were badly bruised, my legs were mildly swollen, but they were not deformed. There were a few abrasions and cuts, but nothing critical. "Why can't I feel them or move them?"

"Calm down, Ace!"

"How can I calm down if I can't feel my legs!" I wheezed and hissed. At that point, I wanted to jump out of bed just to see if I had indeed lost my lower limbs.